


What is happening to me?

by warlock_enthusiast



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:40:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24151453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warlock_enthusiast/pseuds/warlock_enthusiast
Summary: The Detective is alone in her bed and Adam is just a room away and she can’t stop thinking about him. Luckily, she has some time on her hands and tries to be quiet. Well, she isn’t.
Relationships: Detective/Adam du Mortain, Female Detective/Adam du Mortain
Kudos: 57





	What is happening to me?

I sit on the bed and sigh.

What a day.

 _Or more like a week._

I press my head against my pillows. 

_A month_ , if I’m being honest with myself.

Sighing, I turn around and try to ignore my nightmares. They’re creeping too close at the edge of my consciousness. Being introduced to a world of monsters and fairy tales, including your estranged mother, would do that to you. Not to mention that not every monster is an actual monster. 

Being close to a bunch of vampires alters your perception of the world. 

My worn pjs offer a much needed sense of protection. I love the shorts and my oversized shirt and how they smell like my favourite fabric softener. Just a lingering hint of orange and cinnamon. It’s the small things that keep the crazy at bay. 

And the darkness. Thinking about Murphy makes me taste blood and ash and it seems as if my throat is suddenly dry and swollen. 

_Fantastic._

My phone vibrates and I roll over to pick it up from my nightstand, thankful for the diversion. Tina demands some answers about the agents staying at my flat and how they occupy most of the space. She uses far too many smileys. 

_Come on, show me the deets!_   
_  
\- I can’t. Already in bed._

_Barely an inconvenience!_

_\- I have to sleep ;) Will talk to you in the morning._

_Spoilsport! You’re off my christmas list._

I put the phone down and chuckle. She and Felix would probably make a great couple, optimistic, cheerful and empathic, but I push the thought away and try to sleep.

It doesn’t work. 

I know Adam is in the next room. Flashes of our talks occupy my head. The lingering sensations of him touching me. 

The others have left for some urgent Agency business. Mason and Felix are patrolling the streets, while Nate had to drive all the way back to their hidden headquarters. Something to do with a sighting of a kelpie and his superior researching abilities. To be quite honest, I envy Nate’s concentration. These days I can barely manage to read a few pages of a book, before drifting off. Adam stayed behind to protect me from Murphy. Someone had to and he didn’t allow any sort of discussion or arguments. He never does when they talk about me. 

I can’t help my wandering thoughts, because I’m caught somewhere between exhaustion and an anxiety attack. 

Imagining Adam next to me helps. Does he actually have any hobbies? Is he passionate about something? Why does he appear so closed off and unreachable? Does he ever sit down? I can see him leaning against a wall with his shirt tight across his chest. I blush and put my hand against my mouth. 

_No, no bad brain. Stop._

His green eyes and pale, creamy skin. The way he always meets my eyes, unflinching, tense. When he touches me, my whole self is lit on fire. With him in the room, I always feel like standing on a cliff, an ocean beneath me. I know that we’ll never have such a relationship. Adam is too caught up in his duty and whatever he sees when he finds a moment to relax. I can sense a certain hopelessness around him. At times, he even seems lost. 

Adam is good at hiding it, though. And a girl can dream, yes? 

And lately my dreams offer a strange combination of him and doom and gloom. 

I prefer the former. 

My skin prickles and heat settles in my stomach. It’s too late now. I’m a weak, weak woman. I feel my fingers wandering over my chest, opening the buttons, caressing my skin and raising goosebumps along the way. My nipples harden and I imagine Adam closing his mouth around them, with his weight pushing my down onto the bed. Would he bite? Use his teeth to grace my skin? 

I've always liked a bit of pain. 

The shorts are old and offer enough space to put my hand beneath the hem. I use my free hand to quench my sounds. No need for Adam to hear my wimpers. But … it _is_ an alluring thought. A mere wall is keeping us apart. I could get up, undress myself, press my naked self against him and feel the hard planes of his body. 

I imagine him being rigid at first and surprised, with his face devoid of any emotion, but that would change into hunger. I’m not afraid of him devouring me. 

And I’m already wet and I decide to do this quickly and quietly and ignore the part of my brain, which warns me against going any further. Carefully, I rub my sensitive flesh. Pressing my knees together, I try to find a rhythm and bemoan the lack of my vibrator, but it is hidden in my drawers and too far away. It’s noise would have drawn too much attention anyway. I raise my hips for a better angle. 

_Yes! Oh, yes._

My fingers are fast and thinking of Adam pushes me over the edge. 

I whisper his name, as I feel the orgasm rush through my body. 

_Shit shit shit._

My legs twitch and for a few seconds, I lose my vision. In my defense, it has been a while and everything in my body feels so eager to be touched. With my promotion and everything that happened afterward, I hadn’t had much time thinking about dating and sex. 

Sweat dampens my hair now, but I’ll shower in the morning and wash away my shame. No one needs to know of this. Especially not Adam. I fear that my heavy breathing can be heard throughout the neighborhood and I start to breath through my nose. 

_Better._

I roll on my stomach and smile against my pillow, feeling like some teenage girl enjoying her first crush. I haven’t felt that relaxed and rather at peace with myself for a while. All thanks to Adam and him being like a creation of my cheesiest fantasies. 

I’m starting to fall for him, don’t I?

\----

Adam’s eyes focus on the street. It’s empty this time of the day and only a few people are out and about, some carrying groceries, some collecting their kids from a friend’s house. Wayhaven is small after all and offers nothing but homemade pies and fresh air, adorned with lots of trees. He rubs his nose and stretches his back. Standing still for so long isn’t to his liking and he prefers not spending his watch with reading the detective’s books or sorting through her mess.

Without the rest of his squad, it’s quiet.

He raises his head. 

Something is off.

Adam is close to knocking on her door. He can feel her heart beating too fast and her smell seems unfamiliar. Something … primal? Earthy. It raises the short hair on his neck and arms. 

What on earth is she doing? She should be asleep by now and nestled beneath her blankets. 

He walks to her door, evading the cluster of her belongings. 

“Detective?” Adam raises his hand and stops mid motion. 

Sudden realization makes him miss a thought. 

_Oh._

She shouldn’t. Really. The detective needs to be in her best form, alert and ready to fight or escape. Not indulge her baser needs. Adam’s cheeks darken. He doesn’t know, if it’s anger or lust, but his trousers become tight and he curses beneath his breath. 

Since walking into their life, she’d been slowly chipping away his defenses. Every interaction with her offers a new sense of himself and it takes a toll on his nerves. Adam presses his forehead against her door. Her blood smells inviting and sweet and with her pulse this high, it wakes a half forgotten urge. He’d been successfully ignoring it for many, many years.

He curses again. His own weakness and Rebecca for bringing her daughter into all of this. 

Adam presses his lips together, because he hears her small, stifled moans. The sensation is too much. 

But he won’t give into temptation. 

Unbidden images start to dance in front of his eyes, skin, warm flesh, lips pressed against each other. Her hair spilled on the bed sheets, her body beneath him, moving, inviting him in. 

Adam waits for her finish and for her heart to be calm again. As soon as she becomes silent, he slides down the door, gently putting his head against the wood, and closes his eyes. 

Just this once, Adam desires to be someone else, someone, who will open this door and kiss her.

But he isn’t.


End file.
